Page 66 of Radar

Xander Belov was quite literally in her rearview.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Xander

Sunday

Lumberjack, Alaska

Xander called Radar, and Radar bounded over, spun on a dime, and stood at attention by Xander’s side.

The shithead didn’t move to get up, but lay face down in the snow, sobbing. There was blood on his sleeve that told Xander that the guy thought he could get away from Radar.

The men, eating their breakfasts in the lodge, had at least taken time to grab their coats and hats before they ran outside.

Standing on one foot then the other, like the characters in that World War II movie he’d seen on the way to Bratislava, Xander staved off frostbite for the quick moment he needed to tell the men that the snowmobiler had tried to kidnap the woman.

As he signaled Radar and headed back to his room, the area men grabbed the guy up and took him back inside to call the police.

As far away from civilization as they were here in Lumberjack, that would be a while.

In his room, Xander first checked on Radar to make sure he wasn’t injured in the takedown.

Radar, the miracle dog.

Xander didn’t watch Elyssa walk away. His emotions were getting the best of him.

But moments after Elyssa walked out the door. Radar jumped onto the desk in front of the window, growling his warning.

Xander moved up to see what Radar had focused on. There was Elyssa, standing like a statue to stay out of the snowmobile’s path. But the driver reached out and grabbed her wrist.

Radar through his body at the door to get out.

Xander was right behind him grabbing at the handle and dragging it wide.

Radar dashed out into the snow.

Elyssa did some crazy move, and the guy came sailing off as his machine continued forward. But as the asswipe fell, he wasn’t done with Elyssa and kept her wrist in his grip.

It happened so fast.

So damned fast.

Blink of the eye.

Xander was racing forward, but Radar was a fur missile.

And now that the attack was over and Elyssa was heading toward civilization, Xander was on the floor of his cottage room, his whole body wrapping Radar in a hug. “Thank you. God, thank you.”

Xander’s shaking was part adrenaline, part hypothermia.

He climbed to his feet to do jumping jacks and warm his system.

As soon as he thought his temperature crisis had passed, Xander snatched up his clothes and dressed, then picked up his phone. He was shaking too hard to send a text – still part cold, but now also part fury at what might have happened to Elyssa. He slid the phone into his pocket to wait for equilibrium to return.

Someone tried to take her from him.

Could it have been the guy she’d called Gaston—the one with the hurt ego from last night?